Mum had given them both hot Bovril and chocolate biscuits, and the three were sitting at the kitchen table when the van came trundling into the back yard. It was a scratched and dented red Ford Aerostar with “Lean & Co. Plumbers” stencilled on the side panel.
A hippyish-looking man in layers of mismatched work clothes jumped out. He was bald on top with long ginger hair curling down the sides of his head and a bushy reddish beard. He held the van door open after him for a black and white Border Collie, who leapt out, then instantly glued its nose to the ground and started snuffling around in circles, tail wagging.
Harper was delighted. “A dog!” he said to Penny and his mum. “He’s got a dog!” Harper banged out the kitchen door and ran over to the dog. He plunged his hands into her long, thick coat. She gave him a lick but then moved away, nose down, as if to say, “Can’t you see I’m busy here?”
“That’s Bessie,” the man said, coming over to Harper.
Mum walked out, Penny right behind her. “Can I help you?” Mum asked.
The man turned and held his hand out. “Penny Hamilton?”
“I’m her mother,” she said, sounding suspicious.
“Nigel Lean at your service. This the old spooky pile?”
A look came across Mum’s face that Harper knew all too well. She frowned, disapproving. “You’re the ghost whisperer.”
Nigel was all smiles. He gestured towards his dog, which was urgently covering ground in ever-widening circles. “And this is Bessie.”
Mum crossed her arms. “I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m sorry you’ve come all this way, but—”
“Mum.” Penny interrupted and stepped forward. “At least show him round.”
Mum rolled her eyes and shook her head, in what Harper knew was her “what am I going to do with you” expression.
“Please,” Penny said.
They all traipsed in.
“May as well start at the front,” Mum said, leading the way to the entrance hall. “Here she is,” Mum waved an arm around at the grand staircase leading up to the first floor gallery, the ugly chandelier, the cracked plaster walls with their crumbling stuffed animal heads and broken sconces.
Nigel stood swivelling his head around, like a radar dish looking for a signal. Harper noticed that he wore a choker of intricate beads. The dog Bessie had disappeared down one of the corridors, her toenails clicking on the floors. Penny stood close to Harper, then took his hand. Harper wondered why she did that. He pulled away.
“So you’re a plumber as well?” Mum asked.
“Man’s got to make a living.”
“I thought maybe—”
“I don’t charge for my cleansing work,” Nigel said. “There are rules about that sort of thing. But I will take a cup of coffee if you’ve got it.”
Mum smiled and nodded. “Don’t tell me, milk and two sugars.”
“You’re psychic, Mrs H.”
Mum went down the corridor to the kitchen. When she was out of sight, Nigel walked over to the staircase, sat down on a lower step, and waved Penny and Harper over. Harper pulled out his notepad and pencil stub.
“So, Penny,” Nigel said, keeping his voice down. “Tell me in detail what’s happened.”
Penny glanced towards the kitchen corridor, but they could hear the sounds of Mum clanking around, fixing the coffee in the kitchen. She sat on the step next to Nigel, her eyes shiny, and leaned towards him, hands clutched in front of her.
“Like I told you, there’s definitely at least one ghost. The woman. She’s afraid, or upset, or something. Like she needs help. She has all these cuts on her arms. I think she’s Radcliffe’s wife. The original owner. They say he killed her, then killed himself.”
“Have you seen him, or anyone else?”
“No. But I can feel it. Him. Or them.”
“How so?”
“Something dark. Strong. Making lots of weird little things happen. Banging. Things breaking.” Penny looked like she was going to cry. “Nobody believes me.”
“I do!” Harper piped up. He wondered if he should mention the book and the lit candle.
Penny gave him a “shut up” glance, but she smiled.
“I know Mum has seen things, but she won’t say. She totally doesn’t get this stuff. Dad—he’s acting totally weird. I can’t explain it. Whatever this is, I just know it’s out to get us. Like seriously get us.”
Nigel nodded, taking Penny seriously.
“You’ve got to help,” Penny said.
Harper was scribbling away in his notepad when Nigel asked, “What are ye faffin’ with there, young man?”
“Just taking notes,” Harper said, clutching his pad to his chest.
“Gi’ over, then.”
Nigel held out his hand for the notepad. His blue eyes were warm and friendly, but firm. Harper handed the pad to him, feeling like he’d done something wrong even though he hadn’t.
Nigel flipped through a few pages. “What’s this, then?” He held up a page of the magic symbols Harper had copied from the Magic Book.
Harper shrugged.
“Where did ye see these?” Nigel said.
“In a book.”
Nigel flipped to a drawing Harper had made of the Hermetic Ray. “See this there, too?” he said. His voice was different now, sterner and more serious.
Harper nodded. Was he in trouble? Penny was watching curiously.
Nigel tore the page with the Ray out of the pad and stuffed it in his pocket. “This is manky stuff, young man. I’ll advise you not to draw these things again, okay?”
“Will you tell my mum?” Harper asked. He could hear her coming back down the corridor with the coffee.
“It’ll be our secret,” Nigel smiled. “But you’ll stop, yeah?”
Harper nodded hard and took his pad back and put it in his pocket.
Mum came back into the entryway and handed Nigel his mug of coffee. “I should explain,” she said, “that my husband and I don’t believe in ghosts or spirits.”
“No one does, Mrs H.,” said Nigel. “Until they experience one first hand.”
“I suppose you’ve seen lots,” Mum said.
“No, actually I’ve never seen one. But I’ve felt them.”
Penny asked, “Are you feeling one now?”
“The house has a very strong aura, no doubt about it.”
Harper heard Bessie growling in the corridor that led to the kitchen.
“Where is your husband?” Nigel said to Mum.
“Working in his studio. I’d rather not disturb him. No offense, but he won’t approve of your line of work.”
“Can I keep looking round?”
“Of course.”
They all followed as Nigel Lean headed down the kitchen corridor, where Bessie had been growling just a moment earlier.
Penny, at their mum’s elbow, leaned towards her and spoke in a lowered voice. “Please make a bit more of an effort, Mum. He might look different, but he’s the real thing.”
Mum rolled her eyes again. But Harper could have told Penny their mum wasn’t going to give Nigel Lean much of a chance.
They all practically ran into each other when the ghost hunter pulled up short in the middle of the hallway. He turned his head this way and that. “Hello,” he said.
“That’s right where we saw the woman in the photo!” Penny said.
“There’s an old root cellar behind that wall,” Mum said. “It’s been bricked over and then wallpapered over. Long ago, no doubt.”
So that’s where it was! Harper had knocked on walls all over the house looking for that secret passageway.
Lean led them into the kitchen, turning his head from side to side, feeling the air with his hands, and sniffing as he went.
In the kitchen, he went over to the cooker and started lifting pots and pans from its surface and sniffing them, one by one. “Been cooking, have we?” he said.
He finished with the pans on the cooker and moved to the shelves on the wall above the counter. He pulled down a large flat pan and sniffed it closely.
“Yup,” he muttered, still sniffing. “Metempsychotic pharisee.”
Harper had his notepad back out and was scribbling away.
“What?” said Penny.
“Water of the wise,” Lean said.
Mum looked ready to kick him out. “And that is?” she asked.
“Dodgy. Nasty red potion. Weakens a person, body and soul. Takes a while to kick in.” Penny looked alarmed. “A word of caution,” Nigel continued. “Be very careful what you drink. Understood?”
Mum held both palms up in front of her. “That’s it!” she snapped. “You kids are going upstairs while I show Mr Lean out.”
Harper was still trying to figure out how to spell pharisee.
“Out!” Mum ordered.
“No,” Harper pleaded. “I want to watch. He said we could watch if we were quiet.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Penny said.
“You’re going to have to leave immediately,” Mum said to Nigel. She started ushering him out the kitchen door towards his van. Harper and Penny followed. Bessie was already out there, running around frantically and barking.
“Please, Mum,” Penny begged. “Let him do the cleansing.”
“He’s not helping, Penny,” Mum said. “He’s just spooking us, that’s all.”
While they’d been inside, the winter afternoon had been winding down and dusk was coming on. The lights from the house threw faint patches of yellow on the dirt and weeds in the back yard. Two squares of light came through the French doors of the study and fell across the fountain that the Donnellys had reinstalled.
Bessie had frozen in place, and Harper laughed. Her posture looked exactly like Evan’s zombie pose: stock-still as a statue, eyes bulging. She was stretched out weirdly and pointed her nose at the fountain. A low growl bubbled up in her throat.
“What is it girl?” Nigel said. “What ’ave you found, Bessie my girl?”
They followed as Nigel walked over to the dimly lit fountain. His eyes slowly looked up at the waterspout at the top, then down to the upper and lower basins. There was a dark stain, a blobby-looking mark on one side of the lower basin. Nigel stared at it for a moment, then leaned over and touched it and closed his eyes. Bessie’s growling grew louder.
Nigel was there, but he wasn’t there. Harper had seen people on TV and in the movies go into trances. This looked just like that. He murmured and muttered, then started quivering and shaking. Bessie came closer, and the hackles on her neck stood up as she growled fiercely.
Harper watched so intently he had forgotten all about his notepad. Nigel was having some kind of seizure, his body shaking, head bobbing and eyes rolling …